“No. Did you?”
She shook her head. “Only you. In fact . . .” She let the sentence trail off.
“Are we going to stick with honesty?”
“It’s not that easy. I’m not used to revealing myself.”
“Neither am I. But it may be to our advantage.”
She dragged in a breath and let it out, wondering what he was going to think of her. “Okay. I’ve never felt close to anyone. Not my parents. Or anyone I called a friend. I was always alone in a way that made me . . . sad.”
She’d never admitted that to anyone. She wanted to look away, but kept her gaze on him and saw him swallow.
He swallowed hard. “Same with me.”
“Why do you think it’s true?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know why. But I always felt there was something missing. Something I should be able to have but couldn’t attain.”
“Yes! That’s the way I felt. Like there should have been more–but there was no way to reach it.”
They were both silent for several moments. When he didn’t speak, she said, “Something’s going on between us. We hardly know each other and yet we know each other better than anyone else we’ve ever met.”
He nodded.
“We ought to see if we can make it stronger.”
He kept his gaze fixed on her. “Why?”
“For starters, for safety.”
He considered that and asked, “How?”
She kept her voice steady. “I think you know. As soon as we touched, we made a connection. It brought you to me when I was in danger.”
“And you’re thinking that if we get closer, it will strengthen the connection between us and make us both safer?”
“Don’t you?”
“I think there are risks as well as benefits.”
“What risks?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’ve taken risks before. What’s different now?”
His gaze turned inward. “When I was a teenager, trying to make it on my own, I had nothing much to lose. I was at the bottom, and there was nowhere to go but up. I took a lot of chances. I mean, living on my own. Dealing with adults who would have no compunctions about raping or murdering a boy.”
Her insides clutched. “Did . . .”
“No,” he answered quickly.
“You think being successful has made you more cautious?”
“I hate thinking of myself that way.” He gave her a direct look. “Your experience is different. You came from a stable middle class home.”
She laughed mirthlessly. “Where my parents didn’t approve of their daughter trying to make a living in what they considered a nutty profession.”
